


Sing

by Suchafangirl23



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bad boy Ian likes listening, Bi Polar Disorder, Blushing Mickey, Cute, First Kiss, I promise, It Gets Better, M/M, Mania, Mick is on the autism spectrum, Mickey likes to sing, Nerd Mickey, Protective Ian, Punk Ian, Sickness, Strangers to best friends to possibly lovers, fluffy best friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-19 20:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11905272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suchafangirl23/pseuds/Suchafangirl23
Summary: Mickey likes to sing. Not loudly because Fuck that ain't nobody need to know the one of the Milkovitches is a nerd that can sing.Ian Gallagher knows that Mickey likes to sing and that he's actually pretty good at it.For a nerd, of course.





	1. Chapter 1

He was doing it again and it was driving Ian infuckingsane. The boy had a cheap pair of headphones in his ears and was humming along to some stupid song while they waited for their third period class to start. Ian was only here because there was a huge test today that was worth half is grade and if he came home with another F his older sister would have his head. 

Grimacing at the thought of Fi's rage, he goes back to staring at the boy who is now singing softly while he read reads over his notes, the nerd, his black rimmed glasses falling a little to low on his straight nose and Ian wants to reach over and push them back up. So, he does just that. Getting up from his seat, he walks over and stands right in front of the nerds desk. Not all admiring his black hair or tattoos. He reaches and slowly pushes the guy's classes back up his nose with his index finger.

The guy's body stiffens and he slowly looks up at Ian, a perfect black eyebrow raised and gorgeous icy blue eyes wary. Ian takes a moment to look at his pale skin and very kissable lips. He wants to know what they taste like and feel like wrapped around his-

"You gonna stand there all day, firecrotch or are you gonna sit the fuck down?"

Ian snaps his attention back to the guy in glasses and notices how those perfect lips are curled up in a shy smile that'll probably be the death of Ian Gallagher. Clearing his throat, he gives his best smile. 

"This seat taken?" He asks while sitting down not waiting for an answer. The guy just shrugs, a pink hue settling in and painting his pale face, "better than you just fucking standing there staring at me like a fucking weirdo." Ian can't help it, he laughs. 

"Yeah," he agrees, nodding his head then pushing his red hair back, "suppose it is. I'm Ian by the way," he says while holding out his hand.

Mickey just stares at it. "Know who you are,"he says, "everyone knows who you are, man." Ian takes his hand down and looks at the guy.

"You gonna tell me your name or is this gonna be like a game show?"

"Haven't decided if I want you to know it yet, Red."

"Ohhh, so I'm gonna have to earn the right to know it?"

"Or you could pay attention when class starts, you know while the teacher's taking role? Could help you out a bit. Paying attention works wonders."

He places his head phones back in before Ian can answer. The humming starts and then the low singing.

"Cuz baby you look happier you do  
My friends tell me one day I'll feel it too  
I could try to smile and hide the truth  
But baby I was happier with you."

Other people begin to enter the class and Ian shifts to lean back in his seat so he can stretch his long legs. The guy takes out his head phones and stares straight ahead.

Role is boring until Ian finally learns the nerd's name. It exotic and so damn sexy. It matches the guy beside him perfectly. He can't wait to test it out on his tongue.

The test isn't too challenging. But Ian still only scores a C at best. When everyone turns it in, he turns to the guy and tugs out one of his ear phones. Icy blue eyes glare and try to put it back only to be stopped by Ian stealing both the headphones and the beaten up phone.

"Do you wanna fucking die, firecrotch?"

"Depends, Mickhailo, will you be the one doing the killing?" He loves the way it rolls off his tongue.

"It's Mickey."

"Mick it is then," he says handing back Mickhailo's phone.

Mickey sends him another glare before grabbing his back pack and walking out the door.

Ian smiles and it drops when he sees Mickey's perfect ass. 

Yes. Mickhailo is definitely going to be the death of Ian Gallagher.


	2. Chapter 2

"How was school, Mickhailio?" Mickey's mom asks while he's sat at the kitchen table.

"Meh," he answers her with a shrug, too busy focusing on the algebraic equations he was given for homework.

"Meh?" She says, mocking her son with a shrug of her own, "Haven't seen you all day and the first word out of your mouth is 'meh'."

Mickey sighs and looks up from his work. His mother is staring at him. An amused twinkle in her cornflower blue eyes and a satisfied smirk on her lips. She's stirring the meat sauce for the spaghetti that's still bowling on the stove. She puts the spoon to her mouth and pulls it away with a dissatisfied face and adds more salt and pepper to it. She nods her head when she does it for the second time. Mickey smiles at her antics.

"It was fine, ma," he says, "got kinda embarrased in one of my classes today," he adds as an after thought, shaking away flashes of red hair and laughing green eyes.

"Why embarrased?" She aks while draining the spaghetti, her black eyebrows crinkled in concentration.

"Some guy in the class heard me seeing and started talking to me," he tell her, blue eyes flicking down to the never ending equations, "you know how good I am with random conversation with new people." 

So what? He's a bit awkward and shy. The doctors once used the word "autistic" to describe him. But, he's read countless books on autism and yeah, he shows some of the characteristics, but who doesn't? To his sister and mom, he's completely normal. Mom doesn't even blink an eye when he redoes something just because it doesn't look or feel right. Mandy just laughs but doesn't say anything, just shakes her head fondly and lets him do it. He's fine. Just a bit awkward in new situations. No big deal.

"So? You have a beautiful voice. Why hide and whisper?" She asks him, stirring the metsauce into the cooked spaghetti. 

"Because, ma, singing draws attention and I don't want it." 

"Even if it's good attention?"

"No attention is good attention," he tells her seriously as she places the food on the table. 

Mickey scrambles to put his work away before it gets splattered with spaghetti sauce. He throws it into hi backpack and places it in the empty chair next to him. His mom hands him a plate and he feels it high with spaghetti and takes two pieces of garlic bread. His mother eyes him fondly when he put the bread on a napkin so it doesn't touch the steaming spaghetti. 

"Where's Mandy?" he asks with his mouth full. He smiles sheepishly at his mom's disapproving scowl.

"She's staying over at a friends' tonight. To study is what she said to me," she answwers before she bites into her gralic bread.

"Oh."

Mickey used to feel jealous about all the sleepovers and friends his siter had. It used to fill him with bitterness. Now, he's just come to accept that out of the two of them, Mandy is the easier one to be friends with. She doesn' frakout when her friends have the wrong brand of shampoo or itchy sheets. He's just too weird for other people. Being by himself isn't really that bad. It jut hurts to see his twin smiling and laughing with her group of people because Mickey is his own group.

His mother must notice his mood change because her warm hand comes to cover his balled fist over the table. Her thumb brushes tenderly against his knuckles until he unclenches his fist. He keeps his eyes downcast. Hates the sting he feels in them and stubbornly tries to will the sensation away. He hears her sigh and flinches inwardly, thinkking she's disappointed.

"Oh, my sweet Mickhailio," she whispers, "it is okay, my son. Your friends will come when they're needed. I promise." 

"They've been needed, ma" he says quietly, raising his eyes from his food and looking at her, "why do I have to be so..." he struggles for the right word,"different?"

She smiles kindly and cups his cheek.

"Not so ordinary people often lead extraordinary lives, son. You are the way you were meant to be and you do not need to change a thing. You are perfect in your imperfections. Remember that, my prescious boy."

He smiles and nods. 

"Thanks, ma," he says, covering her hand with his.

She nods, removing her hand and going back to her dinner, "now, tell me about the 'omeone who heard you singing. Is boy or girl?"

"Boy," Mickey answers, blushing at his mom's knwing smile. 

"Is he cute?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows, causing him to erupt in laughter. She just looks so absurd wiggling her eyebrows and making kissing faces. 

"Ma!" he exclaims, still laughing.

"What? A mother has to know these things!"

Mickey rolls his eyes and prays for strength.

"He's cute," he tells her, "but, he's the bad boy type," she wrinkles her noise in distaste but waves him to continue, "he's the type that'll get to know you just to make fun of you, I think." 

"You just think?"

"Well, I've never really talked to the guy before. I'm just going by how he looks and the attitudes he gives off," he tells her honestly, wringing his hands under the table.

His mom tsks, shaking her head back and forth, causing a few dark ringlets to frame her lovely face, "You should know better than anyone to not judge book by cover."

"I know, I know," he grumbles. 

"Give him chance."

"What?" he looks at her in alarm.

"Give him chance," she tells him, eyes serious and mouth firm.

"Why?" 

"He could be friend."

Mickey snorts at the craziness of the statement.

"He could be just as bad at making friends as you, Mickhailio," she says, using her best "stern mother" voice.

He sighs in defeat, knowing she has a point. 

"Fine."

She smiles, wide and happy. 

MIckey gives a timid smile back.

"And if he hurts you, we kill him." 

"Ma!"

Her laughter echoes in their small kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, Lip?" Ian asks his older brother as he sits down next to him on their well loved couch.

"Yeah, bro?" He answers, not taking his eyes off the laptop screen, typing and then backspacing and typing again. An unlit cigarette hangs from his lips.

"You ever just see someone and you just know you gotta get to know them?" Ian asks, kicking his yellow socked feet onto the coffee table. He rans a hand through his hair and grimaces at the oily feel of it.

Lip looks up from what he's writing, a contemplative frown on his face. He shakes his head and goes back to his never ending typing and backspacing. The clicking of computer keys is starting to annoy Ian fiercely. "Can't say I have. Why?"

Ian sighs and lays his head back against the couch. 

"There's a boy in my class," he says and Lip looks up from the laptop, sea green eyes curious, "I don't know why I never noticed him before but now that I have," he smiles and shakes his head, "I just can't stop thinking about him. I talked to him today and I don't think he likes me very much," he adds, slightly crest-fallen at the thought. "I just feel like I gotta get to know him."

Lip hums and goes back to typing, leaving the room in silence save for the click-clacking of the laptop keys. 

"Maybe you scared him," his brother says, "you can be pretty overwhelming to some people, you know. Maybe the dude's just shy and needs some time warming up to you. How did you approach him?"

Ian smiles. Mick had looked so shocked as he looked up at him. Then those beautiful and enchanting baby blues practically glowed with irritation. Mick had smiled at him though. For a brief second, but Ian had seen it. It was cute, just a shy quirk of full lips.

"I pushed his glasses back up for him."

"You what?" 

"He looked so cute with them sliding down his nose but I knew it must've been uncomfortable."

"So, you just thought it was okay to handle it for him? Some dude you literally just noticed? What were you even thinking at the time?" Lip asks, voice incredulous as he regards his younger brother.

Ian groans, just now realizing that he had came on a bit strong. He sighs and rubs a hand down his face. 

"He was just so cute," he says, petulant. 

"And you were just so creepy," Lip answers, eyes back on the screen.

"What should I do?" he asks. "I want to get to know him but now I'm afraid I scared him off." 

"Maybe just be less, I dunno...forward? That could help."

Less forward? Ian nods to himself. Yeah. He can be less forward. He can make Mick feel not so uncomfortable. Ian likes the nerd, after all. Maybe he can start with asking him what his favorite genre of music is. Or apologizing for how he acted. Nodding once again, he stands from the couch. 

"Thanks for the help, Lip. I'm gonna go for a run. Be back in a bit."

Lip just grunts and continues typing, muttering to himself.

\----------------------------------------  
"Happier," A voice says next to Mickey's ear, causing him to jump slightly. 

He looks up into calm green eyes and a sated smile.

"What?" he asks, dumbly. 

The punk laughs and takes a seat next to him. He takes off his black beanie and ruffles his hair. Mickey stares at the boys' sleek muscles as his arm flexes, He is so, so, so fucked. He can feel the fire on his cheeks already.

"The song you were singing yesterday," Ian answers him, calmly, leaning forward slightly, "It was 'Happier' by Ed Sheeran. It's a good song. You sing it better than Ed, though," he winks, "at least in my opinion."

Not knowing how to respond, Mickey uses his number one deflecting method: sarcasm.

"Amazing," he deadpans, not looking at the other boy, "you discovered a well known artist and one of his most popular songs. I'm impressed, Firecrotch."

The punk just laughs and something warm stirs in Mickey's stomach. He has to fight back a smile at the sound. He looks up at the classroom clock. Three minutes until class starts.

"Hey." 

MIckey flicks his eyes back to Ian and looks away again quickly.

"What?" He asks.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to scare you or whatever,' Ian says as he taps his long fingers on the top of the desk, "I've been told I'm a bit forward when it comes to how I introduce myself. So...I apologize if I scared you a bit. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to talk to you."

"You wanted to talk...to me...?" MIckey asks in a disbelieving voice, looking at the taller boy closely. 

Ian nods, looking at him right back. His green gaze a little devouring and overwhelming for Mickey. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Ian asks, eyebrows furrowed. 

"Why did you want to talk to me?" MIckey clarifies. 

The punk shrugs, "you just seem like someone I would like to get to know, honestly."

"Why?" MIckey asks again. He doesn't want to be this guys next joke victim. Or the next notch on his belt, for the matter.

Ian laughs lowly, his smile slow and steady. 

"There is no 'why', MIckhailio," he says, voice soft as he stares at him fondly, "it just is."

Mickey shakes his head, bewildered by the punk's words. How Vonnegut they seem.

"Whatever, man," Mickey says, just as the bell rings and the teacher walks in.

He pretends that he didn't see Ian's pleased smirk.


	4. Chapter 4

The class seems to last forever. It's made even worse because Mickey can feel Ian's gaze on him all throughout the class, heavy and lingering. It was a battle for him to just focus on the notes he was taking, rather than turning his focus to the punk currently obsessed with his side profile. The guy didn't even pick up his chewed on pencil once. It was honestly really creepy. Kind of flattering, but mainly creepy.

Mickey lets out a sigh of relief when the bell finally rings. He gathers up his own notebook, filled with today's notes, and his pen. Putting them in his backpack, he stands from his desk and proceeds to walk out the door. He doesn't notice that he has a follower until Ian clears his throat right next to him. Mickey jumps and whirls around. Ian's smile is charming, if a little sheepish.

"Uh...", he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yes?" Mickey asks, eyebrows raised curiously.

Ian clears his throat.

"Where are you heading to, Mick?" He asks, and Mickey is taken aback by his shy tone. 

"The library."

Ian smiles widely. His perfectly straight teeth on display. Mickey's stomach swoops unnecessarily as he takes in the punk's lovely smile. Oh. Oh, no.

"Awesome," Ian chirps, "mind if I come with you?"

Mickey takes in the taller boy's appearance. Black skinny jeans, a too tight white shirt, a well worn leather jacket, and rough looking biker boots. All in all, the punk doesn't look like the normal library loving type. Then again, Mickey really shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Just like his mom said, he should know better. And, if he's being honest, Ian seems like a not so threatening guy. Ian is still smiling. It's just smaller, a bit more timid. As if he's expecting Mickey to tell him no. His small smile doesn't sit well with Mickey.

He shrugs, going for nonchalant, "Sure," he says. He lights up a bit inside when Ian smiles a real smile.

They walk side by side in the hallway. Everyone seems to part for Ian. Like, they purposefully don't want to brush against him. Mickey takes a chance and looks over at the other boy. Ian seems uncaring. He stares forward and walks confidently towards the library. He catches Mickey's eyes and flashes a small smile. Mickey is shocked when his cheeks gain some color. A pretty shade of pink right along his high cheekbones. 

Ian holds the door open for Mickey. He utters a quiet thanks and Ian smiles and winks. Mickey is starting to find them oddly endearing, even though he rolls his eyes. The action just causes the other boy to smirk and laugh quietly.

"Hello, Mrs. Santos," Mickey greets the older woman at the front desk. 

She smiles and nods. Mrs. Santos regards the boy standing behind him curiously. Ian just offers a wave and timid smile.

"Hi," he says, voice quiet.

She gives him a nod and a smile, too.

Mickey walks to his normal spot and takes a seat in one of the old cushioned chairs and Ian takes a seat in the other. He looks awkward and out of place. It makes Mickey smile a bit. The school tough guy is shy and just as awkward as him. It's kind of amazing to witness. Feeling generous, Mickey decides to cut the poor guy a break.

"What kind of books are you into, firecrotch?" He asks and is rewarded with an adorable blush. 

Ian laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck again, "yeah," he says, sheepishly, "about that... I don't really read much."

Mickey can't help it, he bursts out laughing and Ian seems totally enchanted by it. His eyes are wide open in apparent awe and his lips are parted. 

Mickey quiets down, turning shy and looking away.

"Please, don't!" Ian blurts, startling Mickey.

"What?"

"Don't...don't do that," Ian says, voice serious and eyes, too.

"Do what?" he asks, not understanding.

"Hide," Ian answers, as if it were obvious, "don't hide from me. Please."

Mickey blinks at the punk. At his serious green eyes and mouth, Why does it matter if he hides from him? Why does it even matter that he hides in general? Ian shouldn't care and yet, here he is. Caring. About Mickey. The weird nerd.

"Why does it matter to you?" he asks, getting defensive.

Ian sighs and rubs a hand down his face, "I don't know, alright?" he answers, "I just know that I don't like it when you hide from me. I know we literally just started talking and that you're probably really confused as to why I'm even talking and hanging out with you and I don't have an answer for you, okay? I just saw you and knew that I at least had to try and befriend you. And, in case you haven't noticed, I'm kinda alone, too," he quiets for a moment, "I just want to be your friend and for you to be my friend."

"Is this a pity thing?" Mickey asks, after a few tense minutes of silence. 

Ian looks up from his lap. His expression is angry. It scares Mickey a little. Makes him want to slide down into the seat and curl up to hide from those blazing green fires.

"Why the fuck would a pity you, huh, Mick?" Ian snarls. 

Mickey flinches and cowers a bit in the face of the older boy's anger. Ian's face instantly softens and he looks down at his clasped hands. 

"I'm sorry," he says, voice soft, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted that way. I just don't understand why you think I would be doing this out of pity."

Mickey looks up, but he can't make eye contact. Not yet. So, he stares at the shelf of books just above Ian's hat covered head. He can't talk right now. The words stuck in his throat in the form of a lump. He grabs his notebook and pen, beginning to write. When he's done, he hands it shyly to Ian. He grabs it without question and reads it out loud: "I'm just the weird nerd. You're the school bad boy. I just don't get what you want from me." Ian looks up and catches his eyes. 

"Friendship," Ian tells him, "I want your friendship." 

"Why mine," he asks, hands fluttering a bit on his lap, "why not someone else's?" 

Ian smiles at his hand fluttering and shrugs, "you just seem different. A different I really fucking wanna get to know." 

Mickey smiles. He knows it's small and a bit pathetic, but it's all he can manage right now. 

Ian smiles back, wide and brilliant. 

"Yeah?" he breathes, green eyes hopeful.

"Yeah," Mickey says with a sure smile aimed at the ginger, "yeah, we can be friends."

He laughs loudly at Ian's excited whoop, trying to smother the sound with the back of his hand.

Mrs. Santos hushes them fondly, turning a page in her magazine.


	5. Chapter 5

Having friends is weird. Mickey realizes this when he's laying in bed, his anxiety blanket draped over him. He's warm and comfortable, not as restless as he was all throughout the day. The fact that having friends is weird, or a friend, came to him just a few seconds ago when he realized that he had been texting Ian all through his day at school because the ginger had not been there. He told Mickey he was sick. Mickey doesn't really believe him but he trusts Ian to tell him if something is wrong. 

They are friends, after all.

Mickey smiles wide and happy when another text comes in.

FireCrotch: i'm sorry u had such a shit day, Mick. what exactly happened to make it so bad? no one was fucking with u, right?

Warmth floods Mickey like it always does when Ian gets protective over him. It's such a cliche trope. The bad boy protecting the nerd. Mickey really can't say he minds, though.

Mickey: It's not your fault you got sick, man. Nothing really happened. No one gave me shit. I just missed you, I guess. When are you gonna be back? The library isn't the same without you.

He blushes hard after he sends the text. His heart thumping stupidly against his ribcage. His anxiety eases a bit when his body registers the weight of his blanket: a gift from Mandy a few years ago. 

His phone pings and Mickey smiles when he finally gets the courage to read what his friend wrote.

Firecrotch: Awe, Mick! I missed u 2 and i honestly dk right now. I have 2 go 2 the doctor tomorrow. i know i dont feel good. 

Mickey frowns, concern growing for his only friend.

Mickey: Are you okay? I thought it was just a cold? What's going on?

He knows he's being overbearing and acting like a protective boyfriend, but he can't help it. Ian makes him feel normal. He wants to protect him from all things bad in the world.

Firecrotch: i'm okay, mick. i promise. just sicker than i thought i was, is all. plz don't worry about me. 

Mickey: Of course I'm gonna worry. Don't be an idiot. You're my best friend, Ian. 

His phone doesn't ping for a long time after he sends that text. He's starting to grow more and more anxious until his phone starts ringing. His heart plummets to his bedroom floor when he sees that it's Ian calling. What did he do wrong? Ian never calls. Why is he calling now?

With his heart barely beating, he answers the call.

"Hello," he says meekly.

"Did you mean it?" Ian asks, voice made tinny by the cellphones and the distance.

"What?" 

Ian sighs, exasperated. "Did you mean that I was your best friend?" He asks and before Mickey can answer he adds in a rush, "cuz if so, that's the best news I've gotten all day. Besides the news that you missed me, of course."

Mickey laughs in relief at Ian's words. He isn't mad. He's still Mickey's friend. No, no, he's his best friend.

"Yeah," Mickey answers, giddy, "you're my best friend, Firecrotch." He laughs again and Ian groans on the other end.

"What's wrong?" Mickey asks in concern.

"Oh, nothing," Ian says on a sigh, "I just really missed your laugh today is all."

Mickey's face burns in embarrassment and he ducks his head, hiding it in his pillow, even though Ian isn't there to see him.

"You-you can't just say, say stuff like that," Mickey stutters into the phone and Ian laughs in response.

"Why not, huh, Mick?" Ian asks, "I missed you and your laugh. Honestly, it's like my second favorite thing in this world."

"What's your first favorite thing?" he asks, still hiding his face in his pillow so his voice comes back muffled. Ian hears him regardless.

"Coffee," Ian says, matter of fact. 

Mickey laughs again.

"All though," Ian says, "your laugh is starting to be even more vital than coffee to me."

"W-why?" 

"Cuz it's beautiful. And don't even try to argue. Just take the compliment. For me. Please."

Mickey draws in a breath, cheeks practically on fire. "Okay," he says, shyly.

"Good. Now, I would love to stay up and talk to you but, I'm starting to get really tired and I don't want you to hear me snore. So, I'm gonna go and I will text you tomorrow."

"You promise?"

Ian laughs, softly, the sound fond, "Yeah, Mick. I promise."

"Okay. Goodnight, Ian," Mickey says, softly.

"Mhhmm, night, Mick," Ian says back, just as soft.

Mickey is still smiling when he falls asleep. His hand clutching his phone tightly.


	6. Chapter 6

Mickey tosses and turns all night. He can't decide whether it's because he's excited for Ian's call (he did promise) or if he's scared on his best friend's behalf. He decides it's somewhere in the middle.

When his alarm rings in the morning, he's groggy and his eyes feel caked together. His phone is still clutched tightly in his hand. Mickey smiles hugely when he sees three texts from Ian.

Ian: i cant sleep. i just keep wondering whats wrong with me. 

Ian: i also can't stop smiling cuz u want me 2 call u again. im happy about that. 

Ian: shit. im probably keeping u up. sleep, Mick. ill talk to you 2morrow. goodnight.

Mickey texts back quickly. His chest warm with happiness. 

Mickey: I gotta say, waking up to texts from you was awesome. I'm sure everything will be okay. Just breathe. 

He sends it and then two more.

Mickey: Also.

Mickey: I didn't sleep at all. Was too busy smiling about you and worrying about you. 

He gets a text not even a minute later.

Ian: ur the bees knees, Mick. 

Another one:

Ian: sorry that i kept u up. and ill be sure 2 text u every morning now. wanna make u smile.

Mickey's heart melts.

Mickey: You already do. Text me after your appointment, please.

Mickey swoons at the heart emoji Ian sends back and climbs out of bed.

He has a strict rountine for mornings and he has to follow it or else he feels off the whole day.

He makes his bed first. Nice and neat with the sheets and blankets tucked under the mattress. His anxiety blanket always goes on top and just a hair away from his pillows. He feels uncomfortable if the two touch. 

Next, he lays out his clothes for the day so that when he comes back from the shower, he doesn't have to stress about getting his clothes wet. Today he picks a light blue shirt and black jeans with a pair of boxer briefs. He lays his outfit on his bed. Then, he pulls out a pair of socks.

With that done, he heads to the bathroom. He opens his door and hears his mom humming in the kitchen. No doubt making breakfast because his mom has a rountine too and work. He closes the bathroom door and takes off his pajamas while the water warms up.

He turns the water to hot and stands under the spray for a moment before reaching for the shampoo. He rinses it out quickly and then applies conditioner. While the conditioner sits, he washes his body with his favorite lavender and honey scented body wash. It's the only one that doesn't make his skin feel weird. Plus, it smells amazing.

Mickey dries his hair quickly. He's more worried about not drying his body properly. If he dries it too quick, his clothes stick uncomfortably and makes him squirm. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he walks back to his room.

Out of habit, he checks his phone. He smiles when there's another text from Ian telling him to dress warmly because it's supposed to be a bit cold today. Mickey snorts and shakes his but promises he will.

Ian sends another heart. 

When Mickey walks into the kitchen, he goes straight for the coffee. He pours a generous cup and gives it a splash of caramel creamer. He takes a drink and sighs blissfully. Nothing is better than freshly brewed coffee in the morning. (Ian's texts may be competition, though.)

"Good morning, son," his mother chirps from the stove where she's scrambling some eggs. Mickey peeks over her shoulder and sees cheese, ham and mushrooms. He smiles. It's his favorite omelette.

"Morning, ma," he answers, reaching around her to grab a mushroom.

She sighs, mock exasperated. "How you sleep?"

He shrugs. 

"Okay."

His mother hums and goes back to mixing everything together. She starts singing softly and Mickey can't help but to join in.

"Do you love me? I can really move.  
Do you love me? I'm in the groove.  
Do you love me now that I can dance?  
Ohhhhh, watch me now."

They end up dancing in the kitchen while singing the song. Mickey twirling his small mother around and laughing. It reminds him if when he was a little boy and she would grab him and Mands in her arms and dance with them. 

They stop when mom almost burns the eggs. The two of them sit at the table and tuck into the food. Mickeys' mom talks about the new product set she has to work on today at the gas station. Mickey gives his opinions and his mom makes sure to write them down.

"How your boy?" She asks, "you have not talked about him, lately."

Mickey coughs and his mom saying Ian is his boy. He feels his cheeks heat up. 

"Maaaaaa," he whines.

"What? I just want to know how your boy is."

"Stop calling him my boy, please. He's my friend."

She rolls her blue eyes. "Fine. How is friend? Ian?"

Mickey takes a bite of his eggs. "He's not doing so well. He has a doctor's appointment today. He's pretty worried," he says.

"He sick?" She asks, "cold, flu?"

Mickey shrugs. "He just told me he doesn't feel right. I don't know what's wrong. He's supposed to text me after and tell me how it went."

His mom nods and takes a sip if her coffee. "You tell him I say feel better, yes? Can't ever meet him if he dies."

Anxiety flares up and his mother notices quickly. 

She grabs his hand and rubs her thumb along the ridges if his knuckes. 

"It was joke," she says softly, " he not die. He not leave you."

 

Mickey nods and calms down. 

"But, I do want meet him. Invite him for dinner this weekend. Make the family soup."

"Okay, ma." Mick smiles at the prospect of having his best friend over for dinner. "I'll ask him tomorrow or today."

She nods in approval and looks at her watch. "It's time for you to leave for school," she says and he kisses her cheek before he grabs his bag and walks towards the door. 

"Be safe!" She yells after him.

"I will!" He yells back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you g

The day seems to drag. Mickey's phone is silent all day in school. It feels strange not having Ian blowing up his phone constantly. His fingers itch to text something, anything. Ian probably needs privacy, though. He's having a tough time and the last thing he needs is Mickey going all "momma bear" on him. The thought causes Mickey to wilt and shrink down into his normal chair in the library. He misses Ian's presence more than he thought he would. 

He eats the rest of his lunch and then heads to his 5th period. He hates this class the most. There's a kid in it who always messes with him. He's a preppy dude. Clean finger nails, cleaner school records. He's been messing with Mickey since day one of the class. Mickey's sad and just wants Ian to text him and tell him he's okay. 

He gets to close and sits down in his normal spot. Pulling out his phone, he flicks through his playlist. He gets and ache in his chest when he sees no new texts. He picks a song by Ed Sheeran, puts his phone up and gets out his notebook and text book. When The dick, Aaron, walks in, Mickey prays that he won't talk to him. He doesn't talk to him and Mickey is grateful. The class passes slowly. When the bell rings, he practically flies from the room. One more period and then he can go home. 

He's felt off all day. Anxiety heavy in his chest. He hopes Ian's okay. He'll text him when he gets home. 

The last period is a little better. Simply because Mandy is in the class, too. He sits down next to her. She's talking to one of her friends but smiles at him. When she's done with her conversation, she turns to him. She instantly notices he isn't feeling okay. Twin link, huh?

"What's wrong, big bro?" She asks, leaning her head on his shoulder. He smiles as the familiar scent of her shampoo reaches his nose. He rests his cheek against her head for a moment before gently nudging her off. 

"Nothing," he tells her, when she raises an eyebrow, he gives in. "Just an off day." 

Mandy nods. "Is it because Ian's not here?" she asks, gently. 

"How do you know who Ian is?" He asks. He's never seen them together.

She snorts. "Everyone knows who Ian is, Mick. Resident bad boy, remember? Plus, I see you two together all the time." She laughs and adds, "it's about time he grew the balls to talk to you, honestly."

"What do you mean? He didn't know I existed before," Mickey tells his twin. Mandy stares at him, blue eyes incredulous. 

"You've to be kidding, bro." She says and then laughs at his blank look. "Oh my god! You didn't know?" She asks.

"Know what?" 

She laughs louder and shakes her head. Straight black hair waving back and forth with the motion. "This is the best day ever," she says. Turning to him she tells him, "Bad Boy Ian ha had a crush on you since, like, freshman year. Honestly, the pining eyes were a bit pathetic. He would look at you all the time. How did you not notice?"

Probably because he never bothered to talk to anyone that year. It wasn't a good time for him, after all. Too much change going on all at once. He only ever spoke to his teachers and Mandy that year. 

"He did not," he tells his twin. His face feels likes it's one fire.

"Did."

"Not."

"Did."

"Not." 

"Did." 

"Not!" Mickey whisper yells at his sister. He lays his head on his desk and groans. 

"He totally did," Mandy says when the bell rings.

Mickey is overwhelmed with information. Ian's wanted to talk to him since freshaman year? No way. How did he even notice him? MIckey hopes it wasn't by doing something embarassing, 

When the bell rings, he says bye to his sister. 

"Hold up. Im walking home with you. I don't have any plans today. Wanna watch a movie when we get home?"

It's been a long time since they watched a movie together. Mickey smiles widely. 

"Sounds awwesome. I get to pick the movie, though."

His sister whines. "Just nothing stupid, okay?" 

"Fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you guys! Thanks for reading.


End file.
